Broken Dreams
by Masterclass MC
Summary: What if there was another bionic? One not created by Davenport? Adam, Bree, and Chase find out and soon find themselves teamed up with this mysterious character. Slightly influenced by Broken Dreams by Shaman's Harvest. Set before Bionic Showdown.


"Bree! Bree, get up!" yelled my brother Chase. I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Bree Davenport. I'm pretty much an average teenager, well except for the fact that I have bionic abilities. Me and my two brothers Adam and Chase all do. We live with our dad, Donald Davenport, and our stepmother Tasha Dooley and her son Leo. Me and my brothers go on missions and pretty much save the world. So yeah, we're kinda a big deal. Unfortunately, today is not one of those missions. Today we have school, which I used to be really excited about. But then people started to pick on me and reject me so now I hate it.

"I'll be out in a second! Cool your jets!" I yelled back at him. Jeez, he can be really pushy sometimes, ya know? After I got dressed (and I look good as usual) I made my way down the stairs into the kitchen. "Goodmorning sweetie, how did you sleep?" asked Tasha. "Fine I guess," I replied grabbing an apple and waiting on my two dufus brothers. Once we all gathered and were headed out the door, Mr. Davenport yelled out for us to make sure we get home early because he had a guest coming. "I wonder who that could be? He usually makes a point of NOT inviting people to the house," remarked Chase, while Adam nodded in agreement. "How should I know?" I replied back. Wait, was that a little too bitchy? Oh well. Chase made a face at me and walked on ahead.

Pretty soon, we were at school. We all split up, going to our respective classes. I had to go to World History, one of the most BORING classes EVER. All I can do is stare at my textbook until I fall asleep. And that's exactly what I did. Once the bell rang, I made my way out into the hall and began walking to my next class when I ran into Trent. "Well well well, if it isn't the Davenport whore. Who you going to suck off today?" he yelled out, pinning me up against the lockers. "Get OFF me Trent," I said rolling my eyes. "Hmmm let me think about that, ah, no," he replied trying to stick his hand up my shirt. Before I could even retort or make him stop, he was ripped off of me and thrown across the hall. "Adam! What the hell man?!" Trent yelled. "You know EXACTLY 'what the hell'! I DARE you to mess with my sister one more time!" threatened my brother. "Ok, just chill out man," begged Trent, standing up and scurrying off.

"Thanks Adam," I said, hugging my brother. "No problem Bree. Just be a little more careful," he responded, hugging me back. The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. Once we got home, we all got changed and made our way down to the lab. Let me tell you, it sucks not being able to use the capsules to change. WHY have they NOT been put in our rooms?!

"Ah, good, you guys are here. I'd like you to meet our special guest. PLEASE treat him with the UPMOST respect," Mr. Davenport begged, then motioned us threw the door to the lab. Inside was a guy about our age, wearing blue jeans, a black button-down shirt and a pair of frameless-square lensed sunglasses. "Excuse me for that interruption, I just had to speak to the kids for a moment," Mr. Davenport explained, while grabbing a black, wooden box and bringing over to the man. "Quite alright. I take it this is the weapon you wanted me to inspect?" the boy said slowly while opening the box. "Ah, yes it is. This is what all of our research has boiled down to," Mr. Davenport said, sounding slightly nervous. The boy picked up the object inside and exposed it to the light. It was a very futuristic looking gun, black and silver in appearance. "What are the specifications?" asked the boy.

"Well, its chambered in .454 Casull, has a 9.5" barrel, with the capability of attaching a silencer, laser, and a red dot sight," explained Mr. Davenport. Why is he so nervous, I wonder? I look over at Chase and raise my eyebrow. Chase remained fixated on the display in front of us. "Do you expect me to shoot this…weapon?" asked the boy with disgust dripping from his voice. "Well, uh, that was the idea yes. Is there a problem?" asked Mr. Davenport, becoming visibly scared. "Yes, there is a rather large problem. I sure hope you plan on sending this to our enemies, because I would hate to be on the one holding this thing," the boy said laying the pistol down and taking off his shades just long enough to clean the lenses.

"I'm afraid I don't follow" Mr. Davenport responded. "This chamber and barrel have the thickness of a Beretta M92 9mm handgun for one thing," the guy explained, "you are firing a HUNTING round. The .454 Casull round is similar to that of the .500 Smith and Wesson Magnum. As such, it requires much more thickness in its chamber and barrel so that they do not explode with the pressure from the round. The powder used combines progressive burning and speed burning. The result is a round that will lay down just about any thing there is. If you try to issue this out, there is no way a typical solider could use this gun. It has entirely too much recoil, it is inaccurate, and it is dangerous. Its nothing more than a paperweight," the boy explained, setting the pistol down.

"Hey! Who are you to talk to him like that? He spent a lot of time developing this!" Chase yelled stepping forward. "What are you doing idiot!" I hissed under my breath at him. The boy just smirked and stepped toward Chase. "Who am I? My name is Thomas Jennings and if you continue on the path you're headed down, I'll be your executioner," the boy growled with a smile on his face. "Oh yeah? I'm not scared of you," replied Chase, balling his fists. The boy continued to smirk for a second before throwing his hand back and drawling a gold pistol almost as big as my forearm. It happened so fast that even I could hardly see it happen. Chase just stood in stunned silence with his eyes as big as dinner plates staring at the business end of the pistol trained between his eyes.

"THIS is a true .50 caliber handgun. A Magnum Research Inc. Desert Eagle Mark _**XIX**_ .50 caliber handgun. One pull of this trigger and I could scatter your little bionic brain clear to the next county over. Do you really want to take that chance?" Thomas said cocking the pistol. Chase slowly stepped back and brought his hands up in surrendering gesture. Thomas then slid the pistol back into its holster and turned to Mr. Davenport saying, "You might want to switch the caliber to .45 ACP or .40 S&W. It should then be good enough to consider testing." Mr. Davenport nodded and the boy proceeded out of the lab placing his sunglasses back on. Right before he placed them on, he looked me in my eyes.

His eyes were a dark green color that appeared deep, even from 3 feet away. They were almost vibrant in a way, and it seemed something was moving within them. He smirked at me momentarily before turning away with a stonic expression making me wonder if I had been seeing things. That was weird.


End file.
